Weeping Willow
by xlise
Summary: While on the Oregon Trail, Alfred encounters an exotic Indian woman-- countless times. Who is she? And why does she infuriate him so much? AlfredxOC
1. Chapter 1: Indians

**Basics:** So this was written in one night with little to no real thought process going on! Please be patient with me, guys... I'm going through a bland spot with my Larxel story. I'll try to get a new chapter up as soon as possible! (How many times have I told you THAT before?) Anyway, this story includes a new character I made up all on my own-- her name is Kai, and she's like... The representation of the Indians in America. Strange, huh? Well, this is just the beginning of the strangeness, my friends!

**Pairings: **Trail!Alfred and Indian!Kai. :3

**Summary: **While on the Oregon Trail, Alfred encounters an exotic Indian woman-- countless times. Who is she? And why does she infuriate him so much? AlfredxOC

* * *

Alfred F. Jones decided that sagebrush tasted good on the wind, especially beneath blue skies. He decided that perhaps he was ready to ride the Oregon trail-- if not for Manifest Destiny, for the beautiful scenery and the wonderful feel of being on the move almost constantly.

He was a man who needed to move, who needed to be able to go just as fast as everyone else, if not faster. He liked the way the wind rolled over the plains, the way it tumbled and tripped and fingered through his hair like a clumsy child. It made him feel more confident knowing he was more mature than the nature.

He didn't know how long it had been since they'd set out on the trail. Well, "they" meaning those people in the wagon train he traveled with. He had no real family to speak of, unless you counted that jerk Arthur, who _didn't _count. So why would you count him? Ha.

Arthur wasn't really a jerk. Just kinda sometimes. And the fact that they were both competing for the same territory didn't help the relationship between the two nations.

His horse snorted and shifted restlessly beneath him. He was restless too; the train had stopped because a girl had fallen out of her wagon and gotten hit by another. That was the problem with the Great Migration-- there was only so much time that could go by before someone got hurt.

"Alfred!" a voice called. He glanced over to see Louisa, a woman with curly brown hair, waving at him. She coughed and covered her mouth with her apron as he rode over, swatting away dust that rose up. "Alfred, the men say they've spotted some Indians up ahead on the trail. They don't know what tribe it is yet, and they want you to come with with them to go check it out."

"Sure thing, Miss Louisa!" he chirped, giving her a wide grin and a thumbs up before nudging his horse into a trot. After all, it would give him a chance to get moving again; already his body was restless from sitting for a while. And, he'd get the chance to see Indians-- real Indians! So far he'd only heard stories about them. Grinning from ear to ear, with bangs of gold falling into his robin's egg blue eyes, he cantered after the group of men who'd saddled up and were heading down the trail ahead of the wagon train.

Once again, he was on the open trail. If only for a little bit, it was still wonderful. Windswept clouds trailed soft, white kisses across a warm blue sky, illuminated by the sunshine that fell down from the heavens and caressed the earth. The land was barren, yes; with little to no foliage, and with the "little" foliage including sparse prairie grasses and sage brush, it looked empty. There was no shade, nothing noticeable to speak of. But he still loved it. Every piece of it. _This is America's land, _he thought with a smile.

He rode with a companionable sort of air with the other men, who chatted lightly of other subjects. None were all too excited to be greeted by a tribe of angry Indians; but they liked to imagine what might happen if the Indians turned out to be welcoming. It was an ideal prospect that would prove useful to both sides if they decided to trade or sell, because after all, their food supplies could only last so long.

When they broke over the crest of a prairie grass-dotted hill, they spotted the Indian camp just a couple miles away. As the sun was beginning to move across the sky, the land was changing colors, bathing the world in different hues. The silhouettes of the houses of the Indians were all they could really see, other than the faintly moving shadows amongst the camp. They waited, muttering amongst themselves to decide if they should approach first or wait to be approached. After all, it was a fairly reasonable question; who wanted to approach an angry tribe of Indians who wanted nothing more than to see you dead?

There was question was answered for them soon enough. Soon the silhouettes stopped moving, and instead waited for a moment. It was brief tensity; as if both sides were watching each other, debating. And then a few shadows mounted horses and began approaching.

"Let's meet halfway," one of the men, David, suggested. "That way we seem peaceable."

"But _are _we peaceable?" another one, Michael, asked. "If these Indians are hostile, we don't want to seem like we're going to let them push us around."

"We also don't want to appear arrogant," David countered. "I say we meet them halfway."

After a few more moments the debating between them men ended in deciding they would begin heading towards them but at a slower pace, so as to not seem agressive. The Indians seemed to be coming on easily enough, not too hurriedly, but none of them really knew the fighting style of the Indians-- only the stories.

As the Indians came into view, Alfred's gaze lit up with anticipation. He could see the group of Indians was led by a young woman; her hair was thick, ebony colored, trailing down her back and pooling where it met her horse. She had high, sharp cheekbones and a proud nose, and her eyes were a dark chocolate color. Her skin was perpetually sunkissed and looked smooth to the touch, a warm shade of caramel.

"You all are traveling to mountains?" she asked them. No formal introductions, of course. Just business.

"Yes," Alfred offered, speaking for the first time in a while. "We're heading over to the other side of the mountains."

She turned her gaze to him. Her eyes were like a hawk's. "Move quickly, then."

Alfred lifted his chin lightly. No way he'd take a tone like that from a woman. No way, no how. "Is that a threat?" he asked in a tone that could have been either disrespectful or just downright curious

The woman's fingers threaded through her horse's mane. "Not a threat. A suggestion," she replied in a tone that implied that she wouldn't take _his _tone. Was she telling them that she suggested they move quickly so as to avoid battle, if that's what they wanted? Or something about the weather they didn't know about? It was hard to tell.

With another word, the Indian girl blithely turned her horse around, speaking in an exotic language to the three other men who had come with her. The nodded, and Alfred couldn't help but watch her as she rode away. She was confident, elegant. But he didn't like the way she spoke to them, as if they were children.

"We will escort you back to your train," one of the Indian men said. "Not for our safety. For yours." They motioned for the Oregon Trail men to head back, and followed after them as they did so.

"What do you mean, for our safety?" Alfred asked one of the men, allowing his horse to fall back to walk beside him. The Indian man had a hooked nose and strong, firm chin. He seemed older than the other two, more serious, but looked at him with the mutual respect he was feeling.

"We keep you safe for trip through this area," he explained in slightly broken English.

"So you're staying with us until we reach the mountains? And what are you keeping us safe from?" he persisted, curious now. The hook-nosed man simply nodded again.

"We keep you safe," he repeated, indifferently, and Alfred felt that perhaps he shouldn't ask anymore.

x x x

Night came easier than the day. The wagon train stopped now, instead resting beside a small crest of hills and bluffs dotted with foliage. Alfred watched the sky turn from light blue to stormy midnight, watched as the the flecks of fiery ash flickered from the campfire up into the starry sky.

The lithe shadows of the Indian men lurked outside of the camps. As he listened to the others chat lightly of other things, he watched. He couldn't tell if they'd lied about helping them through the camp or if they were secretly planning an attack. Either way, they made him unsettled, slinking around out there.

He sighed and leaned back against the ground. As he stared up at the sky, he continued to think about the Indians. Who was that girl who was with them before? She didn't look exactly like that tribe. She had different eyes. These Indians had large, expressive eyes. Her eyes had been slanted and almond-shaped, like a cat. She had been more beautiful. More than beautiful, in fact.

But her attitude-- so aloof, so... Superior. It bothered him to no end. He wanted nothing more to prove her wrong. To see defeat on her face, to feel triumph with her at the other end. To defy her in every way possible.

Stupid Indian girl. He'd get her.

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So this is fun! Rate and review, please? I hope you enjoyed this. I promise you that there will be plenty more Kai to be coming in. 3


	2. Chapter 2: Indians Part Two

**Basics:** Eh... Kinda forget this when I first posted the chapter. Sorreh, guys. -3-' Anyway, this chapter was... Fun. A lot. I really enjoy picking on Alfred. Is that wrong? .3. Ha, well, hope you guys enjoy! More to come!

**Pairings: **Trail!Alfred and Indian!Kai. :3

**Summary: **While on the Oregon Trail, Alfred encounters an exotic Indian woman-- countless times. Who is she? And why does she infuriate him so much? AlfredxOC

* * *

Chapter Two: Indians, Part Two

They'd been on the trail for a good while now. He was in the front of the wagon train, heading along the worn down path. He loved being the front; even though he knew others had been on the trail before him, he felt that every step his horse took was the first before many others.

He walked his horse at first. Then he was trotted, slowly, just ahead of everyone else; and then he was cantering, going way along the trail until he cantered back.

The hook-nosed Indian usually rode beside him, except for when he cantered ahead. Alfred learned that his name was Akando, an Indian name meaning "ambush" (hmmm, suspicious?), and appreciated the older man's quiet company. It seemed to him that all Indians had a strange lack of emotion, but perhaps it was just a defense machanism. Or maybe he did have emotion and he was just smart enough not to show it.

"You are going to wear your horse out," Akando chastised him after watching Alfred right back and forth. Alfred bristled slightly, lifting his chin.

"Oh?" he asked, nearly in defiance, and a ghost of a smile whispered over the Indian man's lips.

"Horses are good creatures," Akando replied in a calm tone. He leaned down, resting his cheek against his horse's neck. "They want to make you pleased with them. But if I were a horse, I would have bucked you off because you are stupid."

Alfred might have been insulted. He almost was. But as he looked at Akando, opening his mouth for a retort, he saw amusement glittering in the dark eyes of his riding companiong. Clearly, his comment was not meant to be hostile.

Alfred shut his mouth.

"Yeah, you're probably right," he muttered, slowing his horse down to a walk once more. The equine snorted softly and shook its head, pacing lightly but staying at a walk. Akando gave him a small grin, which was quickly wiped away as they began setting out at a more intentional pace again.

When they'd been riding for a good long while, they took a while to stop for their lunch break. Alfred untacked his horse and tied it up with the other horses, stretching. He was sore from all of this riding, anyway, and a break was much appreciated. The sun tickled his face as it came down from the sky; it was hot, yet, but it was comfortable, even. He stopped by the river, kneeling down and feeling the cool breeze that floated up from it. If anything, he was even more nervous with the smell of the water. They'd be crossing the river, including all of the cattle and the likes, and it was as dangerous looking as he'd heard. While this was not perhaps once of the worst river crossings, there was always the chance of some sort of failure.

He dunked his head under the cool, sweet-smelling water, sitting there for a few minutes before pulling out and taking a breath of air. The water felt good, especially on his flushed face, and he rubbed it in for a while before getting distracted by the sound of voices from camp.

She was there again.

Astride her horse, she looked as regal, as condescending, as superior as ever. Now he could see her more clearly in the hot, noon-day sun. She was even more magnificent. Even more infuriating, because he could see the planes of her disdainful expressions.

Standing, he ran his fingers through his hair and settled his hat back atop his head, smoothing out the front of his shirt as he headed back into camp. He wouldn't take her superiority.

No way, no how.

He fell into step next to her horse, tilting his hat back to be able to look at her better. She glanced down at him, gaze not at all curious, but instead-- bored.

"Fancy meeting you here," he greeted with a cheeky grin. She didn't smile, but instead looked back again.

"There is nothing fancy about it," she replied, stonily. She was stoic, he thought, but he could break that mask. He was sure of it.

Why? Because he liked a challenge.

"Oh, I think there is," he continued in a conversational tone. The Indian girl rolled her eyes, looking annoyed, but he plunged on. "After all, weren't you going to stay with your tribe?" he queried, looking at her with an almost defiant gaze. She ignored him for a while.

"I came to help my people help you. That is all," she said in a tone that was forced tranquil. "Do not make something out of nothing."

"I'm not doing that," Alfred said innocently. "I just think it's funny how you keep ending up where I am. Don't you?" he asked, proffering a wide, charming smile.

No response from her.

After a few moments, she said, "I think it is funny how you are under the false impression the world revolves around you. What do you settlers call it? Oh, yes-- self-conceited."

Alfred coughed. Ouch.

She raised her hand in greeting to the other Indian men-- Akando, a young boy named Chua, and a more elderly man named Gudahi. While Gudahi was more... Well, seasoned than Alfred would have expected out riding with the younger men, he didn't for one second underestimate him.

"So that's Akando, Chua, and Gudahi, right?" he asked her, and when she nodded, he hummed in thought for a while. "Then what's your name?" he queried innocently. She looked at him in a calculating manner, and then rolled her eyes.

"Not important. To you, at least." Her reply was clipped, proud. He sighed. Alright, so maybe this was more of a challenge than he'd intended-- but it would be interesting to see how everything turned out.

And now he had a real goal to go for.

He mapped everything out in his head:

_Step One: Find out her name._

_Step Two: Get her to smile._

_Step Three: Get her to laugh._

_Step Four: ..._

Well, that was about as far as he got.

But it was a plan, nonetheless! Something he could work towards that was planned out, set at a certain bar.

She exchanged warm words with her fellow Indians, seeming like a changed woman almost instantly as she conversed with them. Still nameless, but she remained proud-- and that's how he recognized her.

Pride.

Pride looked between her tribemates, continuing to speak with them in exotic, foreign words. If Alfred listened closely, her accent was different from theirs-- more curling, more flowery, even. If you could look at Pride as flowery.

He perked up as Akando motioned toward him in the conversation and broke out in laughter. The other two boys joined him, and soon Pride had her eyes narrowed and looked indignant. She chastised them, but soon Alfred noticed that she was trying to supress her own laughter as Akando mentioned something else.

He was completely lost.

Indians were so confusing.

* * *

"Chua" is Hopi for "snake", and "Gudahi" is Omaha for "there it (a coyote) goes!" Yes, I realize they are not the same tribe, but... Bare with me?

Btw, I sadly do not own Hetalia. Just Miss Pride over here. :3


	3. Chapter 3: Midnight Escapade

**Basics: **So this was fun to write too. A little bit of fluffiness for Kai and Alfred! And, for those of you who are rating/reviewing, I would totally love it if you would give me some help. I might want to add another pairing in here sometime-- maybe some FrUk. What're your thoughts? Any pairings you might want to see in here? Also, I wanted to thank Adaelie for her reviews. Thank you! :3

**Pairings: **Cowboy!Alfred and Indian!Kai. Potentially more.

**Summary: **While on the Oregon Trail, Alfred encounters an exotic Indian woman-- countless times. Who is she? And why does she infuriate him so much? AlfredxOC

* * *

Chapter Three: Midnight Escapade

Night fell. Once more, Alfred found himself looking at the stars.

It was interesting, the way the stars speckled across an endless landscape of midnight blue. Beautiful, even. He thought he liked the way the stars were interwoven together, and how when he looked at a different spot, and then returned to the spot he'd been looking at before, there seemed to be a different star in that place.

Stars were restless.

He glanced over at where their Indian guides were staying. Akando, Chua, and Gudahi were all sitting around a campfire, their sleeping rolls set out, chatting conversationally. He watched, curiously, looking at their companionship, at how lightly they chatted, even with the miles ahead.

That's when he realized one of them was missing.

He sat up, smoothing down his hair, having set his hat to the side. Where was Pride? Had she left again, just as quickly as she'd come in? But he hadn't even gotten the chance to show her who was boss yet!

There was nothing... Violently dominant about his attitude toward Pride. He just hated being undermined. He hated losing. And right now, he was losing. The fact that he'd failed to elicit any sort of acceptable reaction from the Indian girl not only wounded his confidence, but made him all the more determined to get her to react. It was only a matter of time, of course, but soon was soon enough.

He stood, brushing his pants off, excusing himself from the group. They didn't pay much attention, anyway. Making his way over to the Indians, he held up a hand in greeting and crouched down between Akando and Chua. Glancing between them, he spent about three minutes trying to decide how to word his question so that it made sense. After all, he didn't even know her name-- and referring to her as "Pride" would either confuse the Indians or anger them, both of which were slightly unpleasant prospects.

"She is with horses," Chua said after a moment, eyes narrowing keenly in his direction. "You are looking for her, yeah?"

"Yeah," Alfred said, relieved that Chua seemed to be able to read his mind. Akando didn't seem all that pleased at the youth's answering his unsaid question, but didn't say anything about it. Gudahi remained silent and mutely smoked.

Standing, Alfred made his way from the campgrounds out a little ways. They'd decided to keep the horses near the river, to let them relax in the cool and rejuvinate their tired limbs. It was a brief, but calming trip from the camp site to the temporary pasture, but he enjoyed it nonetheless. The night always seemed sweeter than the day, especially under the endless blanket of the sky.

As he made his way over the crest of the hill, he stopped, unsure of what he was seeing.

So far, Pride had been, well... Proud. Disdainful. Superior. He hadn't seen any sort of weakness or softness from her, at all, and he hadn't expected to. But, of course, he'd forgotten that old saying-- expect the unexpected.

Pride was down with the horses, just as Chua had said. As Alfred looked on, tilting his head slightly, he heard soft, quiet singing. It was gentle, soothing. Not beautiful, not astoundingly harmonious, not a chorus of angels-- but sweet, pretty, like the tinkling of glass. The words he couldn't understand, and he didn't know if he ever would be able to. But the tune was like a lullaby and made his heart flutter gently in his chest.

_I'm not here to fall in love, _he told himself. _I'm not in love, anyway. Not with Miss Pride or anyone. I'm here for Manifest Destiny!_

Pride's features were not completely visible; he could only see the silhouette of her of her body, shadowed and illuminated by the moon all at once as she made her way among the horses. That eerie, but delicate, melody hung in the air between them, like a string about to be pulled taut. From what he could tell, she was making the horses more relaxed then they'd been this whole trip.

The night air was cool against his slightly heated skin from the day's travels. The soft swishing of the water lapping at the shoreline, twisting through the reeds, the contented noises of horses; all bled together into the smooth symphony that was the Oregon Trail-- that was Manifest Destiny. It was undeniable, this urge within him. He felt his heart quicken at the reminder that he was competing for this country, with Arthur, no less. He had to get it-- had to!

He sat down on the bluff, stretching out in the grass. Hmmm, it was nice here. Pride's lullaby was, well, lulling him to sleep. Maybe just a quick nap. A quick nap would be nice...

He was only vaguely aware of how the singing had stopped. After that, he was stuck between that magical world that was after awake and just before sleep.

So nice out tonight...

"WHAT are you doing?"

Uh oh.

* * *

HEH. Al's in trouble.

What will happen next? Only time will tell!

And my tired fingers!

Sorry this chapter's shorter... But it'll get better. I hope?

Don't own Hetalia. Boo. D:

R&R, please!


	4. Chapter 4: Trouble

**Basics:**Alright, so last night after getting a few snippets of "Nephilim" up, I started working on the third chapter. And then finished it. And started working on the fourth chapter. And got halfway done. But it didn't save correctly on my thumb drive , so that when I wrote _more _this morning it decided it didn't like me. FUN. So wrote like. A fourth of it in English today and then came back and replaced the part I'd written that had saved on my laptop with the part I wrote in English and now it's kinda... Better? I think. Oh well. XD Enjoy, you guys!

**Pairings: **Cowboy!Alfred and Indian!Kai. :3

**Summary: **While on the Oregon Trail, Alfred encounters an exotic Indian woman-- countless times. Who is she? And why does she infuriate him so much? AlfredxOC

* * *

Chapter Four: Trouble

Alfred immediately startled out of his dozing state.

"O-Oh! Hey, it's... Um, you," he said, lamely, scrabbling for a way out of this. The situation wasn't... Bad, exactly, but it wasn't all that pretty either.

Lies. It was pretty. Especially looking at Pride now.

"Yes, it is me," she snapped, glaring at him with her hands on her hips. "The question is, why are you here? Are you not supposed to be with your wagon train family? Or what ever it might be?"

Alfred huffed. "So what if I am? America's a free country!"

Pride looked down her nose at him, sooty lashes fluttering lightly in indignation. "I hate to destroy your dreams, boy," she stated after a moment, "but this isn't America yet."

"Yet!" Alfred exclaimed, jumping to his feet. "You said yet! So there!"

"Yes, precisely. Not yet is it America," she stated, crossing her arms over her chest. "Meaning this is not a free country." She seemed to be regretting the word "yet" now, looking almost dubious because Alfred was now extremely unflappable.

"Manifest Destiny!" he exclaimed. "Why, I'll tell you, Miss Pride-- one day, this will be America, and it'll be more beautiful than anything!"

She stared at him for a moment, and he thought maybe his words had touched her heart, when she parted her lips and said, "What did you call me?"

Uh oh.

He seemed to be getting in these situations a lot lately.

"What?" he asked, innocent as can be, and Pride cleared her throat in a no-nonsense sort of way. Honestly, she was quite intimidating, especially up close. Her sharp cheekbones, dark eyes, strong nose-- her lofty attitude. It was all quite wonderful, quite annoying.

"I asked, what did you call me?" she repeated, slowly, as if speaking to a child, and Alfred kept his innocent face on-- as much as the temptation of annoying her further was, he wasn't about to risk ruining his face. He was pretty sure if he told her, he would become mighty familiar with the ground.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said, clearing his throat, almost nervously. She stared him down for a long while, and then rolled her eyes.

"White settlers," she scoffed.

"Indian women," he countered, and she made an annoyed noise at the back of her throat, stepping past him. She said nothing, but he knew that she was heading back to camp. "I'll walk with you!" Alfred offered in a chipper tone, bouncing up to her side. She didn't say anything, but he saw her jaw tense and her teeth clench inside her mouth. Good. Some sort of reaction.

"I do not need you to walk back to camp with me," she stated bluntly, tucking ebony hair behind her ear. Alfred grinned cheekily.

"Who said anything about _needing_? Personally, I think I heard your heart call out to me. I think you were wanting."

"My heart did no such thing!" Pride exclaimed, indignant, and Alfred's grin widened.

"Oh, really? Then why are you so defensive right now?" he asked innocently, making her feathers ruffle even more.

"I am _not _being defensive," she said shortly, bristling at his words. He just laughed and slapped a hand on his thigh.

"I'm just kiddin' you, Miss Pride," he teased. "Trying to get some sort of emotion out of you. It's nice to see that you have some sort of humanity left."

Pride looked at him, and then a fleeting smile whispered across her lips-- it was there and gone, but it was still there. It couldn't be denied.

"If you really want to get an emotion out of me, call me Miss Pride again," she suggested, shortly, and he swallowed.

"I think I'm good."

They continued on in a sort of companionable silence then, or so Alfred liked to think. Perhaps he was making progress now? Breaking through her icy exterior to something nicer? That'd be fantastic! Ha, score one for the Hero! Now all he had to--

Where'd she go?

He stopped in his tracks, glancing around. She was gone.

_Gone._

Just like that.

It was unnerving. She had just melted away while he'd been lost in his own thoughts. How was it even possible he hadn't noticed her disappearance? How was it even possible she'd managed to escape his attention?

_No matter, _he assured him self. _I'll just head back to camp anyway. She can handle herself... Right?_

But what if she'd gone off the trail and she'd gotten hurt instead? No, that wasn't possible. He'd have heard her.

... Right?

Images of what might have happened to Pride flashed through his mind and he turned a 360 and scanned the area. There was no sign of her anywhere.

Strange.

The world had suddenly become silent. _Funny, _he thought with a sort of nervous laugh, _how the night birds can just suddenly stop. Hilarious._

It wasn't so funny as he thought.

And the camp fires, the lights in the distance that led to his wagon train, had been so close before. Now, as he looked at them, they seemed miles away. Dangerously far, even.

"That doesn't matter," he said aloud, if only to hear some sort of noise besides the eerie sound of the wind brushing through the trees. But instead, the way his voice sounded so lonely, so...

To say he expected what happened next would be a lie. He had no idea. He didn't hear the slight ruffle of the grass, didn't hear the way she laughed softly. He was too concerned with whether he should call out for help.

Before he knew it, someone collided with him and tackled him to the ground. Alfred yelped, wriggling-- before he realized who had tackled him.

Pride was grinning.

_Step two complete._

Assuming she was grinning because of him.

"That was for calling me Pride," she told him with the most innocent expression anyone could ever pull. She had him pinned effectively to the ground-- but if he timed it just right, he might be able to...

Quickly, he grasped her forearms and shifted his weight forward so that she tumbled to the side and he had her pinned. Now he was the one grinning.

"If not Pride, tell me what else I can use," he replied. She watched him evenly, dark features a stark contrast against the soft green of the grass and the gentle hue of the ground. Once more, both of their weights shifted as she lurched forward, now back in their first position.

"Why should I?" she replied nonchalantly. "Perhaps I could just keep punishing you until you learn to not call me 'Pride' anymore." Alfred didn't move. He allowed himself to be pinned to the ground- grinning all the while.

"Well, if _this _is the punishment you had in mind..." he began, quirking a pale brow upward, and she narrowed her eyes at him. She seemed to be thinking about what he meant for a while before...

He could have _sworn _she was blushing. Furiously.

Pulling away from him, she straightened and smoothed out the front of her clothing. Shreds of dignity still clung to her features despite the pink that Alfred imagined he saw beneath the caramel surface of her skin.

"Do you always think like that?" she asked shortly, clearing her throat, and Alfred grinned.

"You were the one straddling _me_, Miss Pride."

She bristled at his words but let out a feminine, irresistible _hmph _and turned on her heel, marching away.

Alfred sighed, running his fingers through his hair and watching as she stalked away. He was in trouble. He knew it. He was going to get burned in the end but he wasn't sure if he really minded it.

Sighing again, all he muttered to himself was, "Damn," as he made his way back to camp. Briefly, he glanced over at the Indians-- who were in racuous laughter, looking and pointing at him before shouting words and grinning at Pride, who had her arms crossed over her chest, clearly not as amused as her companions.

Yep. Definitely in trouble.

* * *

Whee! Hope you guys like it!

More to come, I hope. :3


	5. Chapter 5: The So Long Blues

**Basics:** Hmm, chapter five. I don't know if I like this yet! I think I'll keep it as is for now. I wouldn't normally settle for it, but maybe it turned out alright? I don't know if their step in their relationship came too fast or not, so please, let me know-- but gently! I am a delicate flower. Kind of. C:

**Pairings: **Trail!Alfred and Indian!Kai. :3 Potentially more!

**Summary: **While on the Oregon Trail, Alfred encounters an exotic Indian woman-- countless times. Who is she? And why does she infuriate him so much? AlfredxOC

* * *

Chapter Five: The So-Long Blues

Alfred was awoken by the sound of laughter and warm voices. He sat up, rubbing the back of his head and blinking in the early light of dawn. What was going on? He smoothed back his hair and sighed, glancing around.

Pride was knelt down amongst a small crowd of adults and children. The children were just finishing decorating her hair with small brown and black feathers, clapping and laughing. Akando was leading her horse over, set with a bag-- full of supplies, no doubt.

"You gonna miss her, Al?" David asked, teasing, as he sat across from the sleeping American. Alfred blinked over at him and tilted his head in perplexity.

"Miss her?" he asked, confused. "She's... Leaving?" he queried, now standing and fumbling to untie his horse's reins. David watched him curiously.

"Yeah, she's leaving. What'd you think the whole going-away thing was for?" he asked, looking amused as Alfred clumsily climbed onto his horse. Pride had already mounted hers and was calling farewells over her shoulder as she nudged her equine into a canter and began making her way down the trail. By the time Alfred got his bearings, she was naught but a quickly disappearing figure on the horizon. "Alfred?" David laughed. "Where are you going so quickly?"

But Alfred wasn't listening. Instead, he spurred his horse into a gallop, barely avoiding crashing into the crowd of people who had bid their farewell and maneuvering past the three Indian men. None of them were perturbed by his sudden take off, as far as he could see. Instead, they were laughing.

The wind fingered his hair as his horse stretched out into a more floating, smooth gallop, and he followed Pride's figure over a bluff that headed neatly off of the trail. Soon, he overtook her; slipping past her horse, he slid to a stop in front of her-- causing her to stop her own horse.

"What're you doing?" she asked him, her voice poised, as usual. She was watching him warily, though, head cocked to one side.

"Well, I wasn't about to let you leave," Alfred panted, out of breath even though he hadn't been the one doing the running. "Not without telling you good bye myself." He gave her his most dashing grin, which elicited a roll of her eyes.

"There was a reason I didn't let them wake you up, you know," she told him pointedly, absently stroking her horse's neck. He feigned a wounded expression.

"Trying to get rid of me, Pride?" he asked innocently, and she frowned at him. Perhaps he'd been too correct. Clearing his throat, he tilted his head and grew more somber. "Could we just... Maybe relax for a while? At least before you leave?" he queried more seriously this time.

She studied him, quiet seriously, for some time. She seemed to be thinking over his offer, before she assented with a wary nod. "Very well," she replied. "Ride with me, pale face." And with that she trotted off, with Alfred following after her.

They found a spot, near a small creek, where the willows fell softly to the ground. It was more peaceful than he expected from her-- but then again, he wasn't sure exactly what to expect from her. After all, she was unpredictable.

Except for being superior. He could expect that from her.

She slipped from her horse gracefully, seating herself next to the creek. She toyed with the feathers in her hair and fixed them to a more comfortable position. He could have sworn he nearly saw her smile-- the slight tip of her lips upward gave way to what she was remembering.

"I didn't know you were so fond with children," he said after a moment of silence. Sunlight dappled through the leaves of the willows, whose branches and leaves fell to the ground like pale emerald tears. Perhaps the meaning of their name came from it.

"Did you stop me to ask me about my attatchment to the younger of the human race?" she asked him, witheringly, and he hesitated.

"No," he replied after a moment, clearing his throat and sitting down a distance away from her. He paused for a while longer, content with just listening to the birdsong and the gentle, soothing effects of the area. They were nearing the Blue Mountains; the idea struck him as exciting, too. They were nearing their destination at last.

Surprisingly, Pride was the first to break the silence this time.

"Then what _did _you bring me here for?" she asked him, clearing her throat. Was she awkward? Nervous? He looked over at her with a curious gaze, and imagined he could see a tinge of pink beneath the surface of her cheeks.

What exactly _had _he brought her here for? He had half a mind to point out that he hadn't brought her anywhere, that in fact she had brought him there, but he didn't mention in and instead looked away, watching the water curve and dip over the land.

"I don't know," he admitted finally, sighing quietly. He toyed with a fallen leaf between his fingers, twisting it around and around until he thought that watching it anymore would make it dizzy.

And it was the truth. He didn't know. The truth was, he wasn't in love. Right? Right. But she was intriguing. He was sad to see her go. He didn't _want _her to go. He liked to think that their banter had brought them closer than any amount of flirting ever could have. Alfred liked to think that maybe she might, just might, be as taken with him as he was with her. Perhaps even as frustrated because she couldn't stop him and he couldn't stop her.

She was a running river, constantly heading toward the ocean. He had no chance to stop a river, much less a river ocean bound. And he, well, he was a nation. There was no way he was going to give up America for a woman, even a woman as... As different as Miss Pride over there.

"Kai," she said after a moment. She seemed to have been thinking for a long time. A long, long time, in fact, during his whole reverie. When he looked over at her again, staring at her in confusion, she enlightened him. "My name is Kai."

He watched her, and then a smile overtook his features. "Kai," he repeated, grinning now. "What's that mean?" But as he was saying it, she stood and climbed atop her horse once more, also decorated with feathers and the likes. She didn't answer him, and he stood to stop her. But she nudged her horse into a walk and called over her shoulder, "Farewell, pale face," with her hair slung over one shoulder.

"Alfred!" he called after her, leaning against the willow tree. "My name's Alfred!"

She simply waved over her shoulder.

He sighed, looking down at the leaf. Who knew saying good bye to his local frustration would have been so tiring?

* * *

Hmmm! A little bit of fluffiness, perhaps?

I couldn't think of how to add in FrUk, or Canada, or Hungary/Prussia yet, but I hope I will soon! I plan on it!

Anyway, I hope you guys liked this. A step further in their relationship, I think. :3


	6. Chapter 6: Post Blue

Chapter Six: Post Blue

-_Matthew_-

Matthew rolled over, groaning as he felt his stomach muscles contract with the sudden movement and pulsed with pain. He felt like throwing up but he didn't _want _to, mostly because his throat was sore and dry and he just felt like Hell.

He stood, blinking his eyes open blearily, knowing that his whole body was sore now, not just his throat or stomach. His head throbbed, but most of the pain was centered around his ribs. Maybe a broken bone?

He looked around at the forest, taking a deep, unsteady breath of the cold air, and then hurled his lunch the edge of some ferns.

Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he sighed. Well, his stomach felt a lot better. At least now it just felt bruised and achy.

He heard a soft, feminine gasp behind him and turned to the sound of someone exclaiming, "Oh my! _Êtes-vous mieux?_" Matthew blinked in confusion for a moment, mind processing both the sight that greeted him and the French words spoken.

The girl was about his age, maybe a year younger. She had a doll's face, smooth, pale skin covering it and folds of neat, coal colored hair that tumbled around her face. Her eyes were round and soft, also dark but with a blue hue, and she had thin yet pretty lips that were tipped in a perplexed, concerned smile.

He stared at her blankly, rolling the phrase around in his head for a moment. _Êtes-vous mieux? Are you better_?

"Y-Yes," Matthew replied shakily, nodding in case she couldn't speak English. It was too much for his hazy brain to respond in French. "I'm... Better..." He was distracted, briefly, by the tilt of her lips as her smile brightened lightly. She was holding a roll of gauze or something in her hands, and she stepped forward to take his elbow --he had been unintentionally gripping at his stomach-- and lead him to a spot beneath a tree.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, watching him with a concerned gaze once he'd settled (slowly) on the ground again. She set the gauze down and went about straightening it out, checking to make sure it was still clean.

"Confused," Matthew replied. She gave a soft laugh, and he continued, "And very sore. What happened to me?"

Her nimble fingers lifted and began undoing the buttons on his shirt. He watched with the fascination of a man who had nothing better to watch at the time. The girl's fingers were slender, thin. Delicate. She leaned him forward, gently, and slipping the torn, collared shirt from his shoulders, and then brought the gauze up to begin wrapping around his midsection. He would have blushed if he hadn't been so tired and sore.

"I was walking along the trail here," she explained, indicating the trail that was naught but a few feet away, "when I was nearly hit by an Indian woman riding her horse. She was going very fast, what some would call breakneck speed, and I barely made it out of the way. There was a bend in the trail, and when she made the turn, I heard her shout something and then it sounded like someone got hit." She paused, looking at him, but he was too lost in his own thoughts.

It sounded familiar. He paused now, closing his eyes and trying to remember; had he been walking along that trail? Now that he thought about it, yes, yes he had. He'd been going to meet Francis at this fort, or something, run by the Hudson's Bay Company. Francis and Arthur. He had been going to meet them and he when he turned at the sound of horse hooves and then--

Oh.

He'd been hit because he'd been in the way and the woman riding the horse hadn't been looking. He couldn't remember much after that, though, only blissful, painless sleep.

"When I came around the corner, the woman was kneeling by you. She would have stayed, I'm sure," the girl continued, "but I knew she was in a hurry, and I was there to take care of you, so I pulled you off of the trail. As far as I can tell, you have some bruises and cuts, maybe a broken rib or two."

"That _would_ explain the searing pain in my stomach," Matthew muttered, and she flashed him a quick grin before pinning the gauze.

"I just came back from getting this. I figured I ought to wrap your midsection in something, seeing as you might have broken ribs," she finished after a moment. "And when you woke up, I was going to walk you to the fort."

"Fort?" Matthew asked, perking up slightly. "Is it the fort run by the Hudson's Bay Company?"

The girl laughed. "There are a lot of those, you know," she informed him, standing and holding her hands out to help him. "But yes, it is. I was coming from there to head to the outpost somewhere down along this trail when the accident happened."

Matthew let out a groan as he stood. Not from the pinching ache in his stomach, but rather from the fact that he had been going the _wrong _way in trying to reach Francis and Arthur anyway. He'd missed the turn, he supposed --no _wonder _that man had looked at him funny and laughed when he'd asked for directions!-- and that had ultimately led to his demise.

"Are you sure you're alright?" the girl asked him, concerned at his obvious pain. He grimaced, but nodded, and she pulled his arm around her shoulder. "I can get some more help, if you want," she suggested after a moment, but he shook his head this time.

"I'd rather just get there as quick as possible," he answered.

She nodded, quiet for a while, and then began leading him along the trail. "I'm Mona, by the way," she told him, and he gave her a meek smile.

"Nice to meet you, Mona. I'm Matthew." He sighed through his pursed lips, hobbling along the trail beside her. "Thanks for taking care of me," he added sincerely, and she gave him a warm smile.

"Don't mention it," she replied, and they continued the trip in companionable silence, leaving Matthew alone to his thoughts. Silently, he watched Mona out of the corner of his eye, watched her eyelashes flutter slightly as sunlight burst through the trees and how she gave a quiet laugh, a pretty noise in the warm silence of the forest.

Maybe getting hit by that horse wasn't so bad.

x x x

-_Alfred_-

Camp just wasn't quite the same without Kai. He smiled when he thought this, though --_Kai_-- and felt like he had a secret treasure no one else did.

Well, except for the Indian men, of course. They knew her name.

Progress went steadily as they reached the foot of the Blue Mountains. He watched as kids stared at the formidable obstacle loomed over them at night, and then burst at the seams with excitement as they headed onto the rocky path.

Akando rode with him most of the time. They didn't speak, but Alfred liked to listen to the other man mutter to himself. Whatever language he was speaking, it was comforting to hear it throgh the whole trip.

The Blue Mountains were scary. Not only because they were so remote, so empty and lonely, but also because they were the last mountain range they had to cross before _really _getting into Oregon Country. It was exciting, terrifying. He felt his heartbeat pick up when he thought about it.

As they began heading into the climb of the mountains, through the dark pines and spruce trees, Alfred heard a man, Samuel, shout out, "Here we begin climbing the Blues, and if they don't beat the devil!" A ripple of laughter passed through the group, before it grew into a soft murmur between family members.

The roads were bumpy and tiring, but the settlers plunged on with their three Indian guides.

Akando, riding next to Alfred, looked over at his companion and looked curious. "Alfred," he stated after a moment. Alfred startled at the sound of his voice coming from the Indian's mouth (for the first time?). He looked over at Akando and gave a perplexed smile.

"Yeah?" he asked, and Akando turned to look back ahead of the trail, allowing his horse to step delicately over a fallen log.

"You and her had a talk before she left, yes?" he asked, and Alfred paused. There was only "her" that the Indian could be referring to.

"Yeah," Alfred replied, sighing, taking no trouble to hide it. He was pretty sure all of the Indians were already quite aware of his miserable situation.

"Did she tell you her name?" Akando asked him, and he blinked in surprise now, perking up again.

"Yeah, she did!" he said, proudly now, puffing out his chest. Akando quirked a brow and gave an amused smile.

"And? What did she tell you?" he queried, and Alfred paused. Was this a test?

"... Kai..." he replied uneasily, and Akando's smile warmed.

"I thought so."

They were silent for a while longer, and then Alfred deflated.

"Is it wrong?"

"What?" Akando asked, perplexed.

"Her name. Did she give me a fake name?" Alfred persisted, and Akando laughed.

"How do you say it?" Akando mulled for a moment. "Not in the... Littlest?"

It was Alfred's turn to laugh. "Not in the least."

"Right, yes. Not in the least, Alfred."

Alfred beamed, preening.

Ha. Goal one down.

* * *

So this took a long time to get up! I'm going to be lazy and not post what I usually put at the beginning because... I'm being lazy.

So I introduced the next pairing, Matthew/Mona. Short-lived, I'm sure.

Tell me what you think? C:

And thank you, to all of my wonderful reviewers! You're what keeps this going!


	7. Chapter 7: Je T'aime, Mon Ami

**Basics:** I can't believe this took me so long. o_x My laptop's been down and I just haven't ever gotten around to writing it again. 8[ I'm sorry, you guys. Forgive me?

**Pairings: **Trail!Alfred and Indian!Kai. :3 Potentially more!

**Summary: **While on the Oregon Trail, Alfred encounters an exotic Indian woman-- countless times. Who is she? And why does she infuriate him so much? AlfredxOC

* * *

Chapter Seven: Je T'aime, Mon Ami

-_Kai_-

That poor boy. She regretted hitting him; but then that other girl had come along, and said she would take care of him. Kai's lips twisted into a light grimace and she continued riding down the trail, and soon, the Whitman Mission came into view.

This was her last stop before she headed back home. She needed to check on her Cayuse kin; they were, after all, one of the more irritable of her people, and what she thought to be the most warlike. With the Whitmans so nearby, and with their European customs, she didn't know how they were faring.

As her horse crossed the threshold of the Whitman land, a young boy was peeking out around the house at her. She placed a trained smile on her face and slowed her horse to a stop.

"Are you a Cayuse?" the boy asked her softly. He couldn't be much more than sixteen, seventeen maybe. She looked at him in confusion, and then shook her head, sliding off of the horse.

"No," she informed him, almost gently. "Why? What's going on?"

The boy had visibly relaxed. "Oh. Nothin', it's just-- there's been talk going 'round and whatnot-"

"Talk?" she asked, brow furrowing, and the boy tensed up again slightly.

"Mother says tain't nothing," he told her. "But talk says that the Cayuse are gettin' angry."

"Mother?" Kai asked again. "May I speak with your mother, erm..."

"John," he answered. "John Sager."

"John Sager," she affirmed, as best she could with the foreign words on her tongue. "May I speak to your mother, John Sager?"

John grimaced. "Maybe not... She doesn't quite like talkin' about the Indians, 'specially the Cayuse. But Father may talk to you."

"Then please," she told him, "show me where I may speak to your father."

John nodded, taking her horse for her and tethering the steed up in front of the house. Then, leading her into the house, he called, "Father? There's a lady here wantin' to talk to you."

A tall, dark-haired man, handsome in his age, looked into the room. "It's _wanting_, not wantin', John. And may I ask who you are?" His words were now directed at Kai, whom now had his gaze fixed on her. She shifted slightly.

"Kai," she replied. "I wanted to speak to you about the Cayuse."

The man, Marcus Whitman, almost tensed, but cleared his face and offered a polite smile. "Come in, Miss Kai. John, fetch a pitcher of water, won't you?"

"Sure, father."

Marcus motioned Kai inside the room, and she obliged, seating herself stiffly at the kitchen table. It wasn't that she disliked the man; she had just never felt at home inside a place as neat as this. She was a wanton creature of the wilds, that much was for sure.

"I assume you've heard about the Cayuse threat?" Marcus asked her.

"Your... Son told me," she answered. "I was coming here to check on my kinsmen."

Marcus looked perplexed for a moment, but didn't push further. "Marcus Whitman," he introduced himself, and Kai gave him a look that said 'I didn't need to guess to know that'. He gave a slight smile. "Well, I think that someone has been telling the Cayuse terrible things-- you must know how eager they are to find something wrong with my family and I being here," he added, and when she nodded, he continued. "Things are getting very tense. I don't know what it is, but... I plan on leaving soon."

"Good," Kai answered firmly. "I will go now to speak with them," she continued, lighter now, "and perhaps we can work this out."

"It would be nice to be on more friendly terms with our Indian neighbors," Marcus agreed, "but I think it's about time we take our leave anyway. Retire somewhere safer."

Kai gave him a soft smile. Here was a man who was thinking; for his family, for himself. Her smile was sympathetic, though-- couldn't he have thought of this sooner? Hadn't he noticed the Cayuse's dislike for him from the beginning? Not to mention that Indian children were beginning to die of European diseases; that, on top of everything else, was only making matters worse.

"Well, I do wish you good luck on your endeavors, Miss Kai," Marcus told her, extending his hand. "And wish your kinsmen a good life from me." She shook his -hand, and he paused, giving a wry smile. "On second thought, don't do that," he said. "In fact, don't even mention me. I don't know what you might set off."

She gave a bittersweet laugh, and then nodded her head, excusing herself from the room. John Sager peered at her with wondering eyes as she left, hoping maybe she could mend the relations with the Cayuse. What would they do if she didn't?

x x x

-_Alfred_-

They made it over the Blues in no time. Alfred, grinning as he spear-headed the group, took a deep breath of the air. This was the air he'd been longing to taste; _America's air._

"Well, I'll be damned!" Samuel called. "But ain't that a man coming our way?"

And indeed it was. Alfred peered more closely and saw that the man was dark-haired, in his late thirties, and scrambling to stay on his horse correctly. Clearly, he hadn't been riding for all that long. "Excuse me!" the man called. "Excuse me, but I would like to request some help from the men in this wagon train?"

"What for?" Samuel asked, suspicious, and Alfred turned to the man in question. He slowed his horse clumsily to a stop in front of them.

"The Cayuse are getting riled up," he explained. "We wanted to get a bit of men ready in case anything started happening."

Akando bristled at the name of his kinsmen, and then looked at the ground, dark gaze fierce. Alfred cleared his throat, and then turned his attention back to the man.

"I'll come," he answered. "For safety," he added, as if to explain he didn't plan on shooting any Indians.

"That's all we ask for!" The man exclaimed. "Please, follow me-- your wagon train can rest in our little town until we get word of any attacks from the Cayuse."

As they set out again, Alfred slowed his horse so that he was riding side by side with Akando.

"Do you know anything about this?" he asked Akando uneasily after a moment. The Indian bristled again.

"Cayuse are fighting people," he answered in a clipped tone. "They do not like the pale face expansion. That is all I know."

To Alfred, it seemed that Akando might know more-- but instead, he didn't push, just remained stonily quiet as they pressed on.

x x x

-_Matthew_-

"Matthew, are you alright?"

That was only the bajillionth time Mona had asked him that. Perhaps it was his labored breathing, or ashen face, but she had taken notice several times already.

"I'm fine," Matthew panted, but this time Mona didn't fall for it.

"Matthew, I already like you too much to lose you so close to safety," she informed him, grasping his hand firmly, ignoring his blushing cheeks. "So we're going to stop for the night and give you some rest. Is that clear?"

"Y-Yes, Mona."

She gave him a small smile, warm and making him feel as if it were only them in the whole entire world.

"Good."

...

Matthew's cheeks were blushing furiously, and he tried to keep it hidden, but in the dark it seemed all the more noticeable.

Both he and Mona had stopped for the night; they'd set up a fire, with Matthew laying on the ground next to Mona while she dozed against a tree trunk. It had been very, very harmless until now-- never mind the fact that he'd managed to keep his newfound attraction for the young woman smothered! But it had all started with, while Matthew was starting to drift off himself, he felt something touching his hair.

He barely kept his breathing in check, lifting his gaze to look at Mona-- she, meanwhile, was fast asleep, head having tilted and cheek pressed against the top of his head. It wasn't as if there was anything particularly sensual about it, but just the sheer intimacy of the unconcious movement was what made his cheeks heat. She murmured something absently in her sleep, and Matthew was almost sure he heard his name. He shifted slightly, moving to get away from her, only to find her head nestled into his shoulder.

He was terrible at this "smothering affection" thing.

Mona murmured again, snuggling closer to him, clinging to his arm. _Little vixen, _he thought wryly, but a smile was crossing his flushed face all the same. There was just something ultimately _right _about having her with him; that was what he adored most.

While she slept, softly, he whispered, "_Je t'aime, mon ami._"

Her eyes blinked open.

He stared, apalled, into the dark blue depths of her gaze, and then watched in shock as a smile formed on her face. Quietly, she leaned up and kissed his cheek.

"_Je t'aime, mon ami,_" she answered him drowsily, and fell asleep.

x x x

-_Kai_-

"Welcome, Kimimeela," a deep-voiced man greeted her. "It has been long since you last visited us."

"It's Kai now," she replied, almost timidly, and he quirked a brow almost in surprise.

"Very well," he answered. "You will explain later. For now, tell us why you have come so unnanounced."

She shifted, feelig the dark, almost hostile gazes, before clearing her throat and lifting her chin.

"People have been speaking. They say you are turning against the Whitmans," she began, but immediately stopped as the Cayuse around her bristled.

"Then they are right!" the first man growled at her, so fiercely that she almost shrank back. "The Whitman man is poisoning our children," he continued, snarling now. "We will destroy him before he destroys us!"

A chorus of agreement rose from the other Indians.

"Please, if you would just think for a moment!" Kai exclaimed, desperately trying to gather hold of the situation. The man stared at her with eyes that burned in their hatred.

"We have thought, for longer than a moment," he replied in a stony voice now. "We will attack the Whitman Mission at dawn, and we will be safe from the tyranny of the white settler!"

_Attack the mission at dawn, _Kai thought, panicking. _What am I going to do?_

* * *

So that's fun, right? Right. I don't know exactly how I'm going to go about unfolding this plot, but I hope you guys like it so far~


	8. Chapter 8: Kings and Queens

**Basics:** So uh, ignore the fact that this is totally late and focus instead on the plot, plz? Kthx. C8

**Pairings: **Trail!Alfred and Indian!Kai. :3 Potentially more!

**Summary: **While on the Oregon Trail, Alfred encounters an exotic Indian woman- countless times. Who is she? And why does she infuriate him so much? AlfredxOC

Chapter Eight: Kings and Queens

* * *

_-Kai -_

Kai hated seeing her kin like this. It was not only repulsive but frightening; the sheer carnage and brutality of a wounded spirit never failed to amaze and horrify her. She had seen plenty in her lifetime. The years before the white man came, before the land was being turned up by feet and hooves that hadn't been before.

Times were changing. While it stood still, mankind moved forward; but that did not mean _death _had to follow it, did it? Kai was just as ready to fight for what was hers as she was to appeal to the gentler side of things. In this case, the wholesome massacre of the Whitman family was not the only solution, was it?

She watched that morning as the Indian men took off to their ultimate downfall. She paced unhappily in camp, unsure of whether she was to go after them or stay where she was. Could she be satisfied with herself in assisting with the death of innocent people? Could she bear the ill will of her people if she stopped them from what they thought was right?

She didn't know the answer. What she did know, however, that one thing that her people prided themselves on was being better than the white man. She knew that they were happy to not sink to some of their voracious levels. She knew that if her kin really wanted to prove to the white man who was in charge, they would not be slaughtering them.

Biting her lip fiercely, she grabbed her horse and sped off after the men.

_-Alfred-_

"Wake up, men!" the man, now called Patrick, shouted out over the men. "The Cayuse have attacked! Hurry up and get your horses ready!"

This was what Alfred had been dreading. So far, he'd had either neutral or _good _encounters with Indians. Wonderful, if you counted Kai. He didn't know when he'd begun to think of her as wonderful or beautiful, but he knew that it was true and that the idea of having to injure and possibly kill one of her kin was something that made him sick to his stomach.

He should have never agreed to this.

But there were people's lives at stake. People of _America_. He couldn't just leave them there to be hurt! He forced himself to his feet and climbed onto his horse, barely keeping his hat on as he did so. Before he could really wake up, Patrick was urging him to hurry, telling him to keep close to the group and keep safe as they headed to the distance.

Fires burned. Alfred was almost sure he heard women crying.

"Look at what those savages did," a young man whispered as they stopped a good distance away. "I bet they killed all of 'em 'cept the women. You know, they'll probably sell the women or force 'em to marry into the tribe."

Alfred grimaced and swallowed thickly. In the midst of great change came nightmares, it seemed.

"Alright men," Patrick said once he'd caught up to them, accompanied by several more men. "This is a delicate situation. We don't want any more people getting hurt than there already are, so be careful!"

Alfred stared at the problem that sat before him. He didn't want to go—he didn't want to see the darker side of his Manifest Destiny, what might have been caused by _his _want for expansion.

He didn't want to see the mess he'd created. But he had to clean it up, like it or not.

_-Matthew-_

It was early, early morning. It was still dark outside, and he couldn't hardly see anything except for the faint glimmer of their remaining fire and Mona's form curled into his. She shivered softly, and he wrapped an arm around her to pull her closer to him. He dozed off contentedly, giving a soft sigh.

This was the life.

"The life", unfortunately, was interrupted by the shouts of men and the sound of hoof beats coming down the trail. They stopped, and Matthew blearily tried to gather his surroundings as a man kneeled in front of him.

"Matthew! Matthew, can you hear me?" Arthur questioned, cupping the boy's cheeks in his hands. He looked like he was drunk. "Matthew, say something!"

Matthew yawned thickly, sighing. "Arthur?" he mumbled. "What're you doing here?" He was confused. Arthur? Here? It didn't make any sense!

"_Mon Dieu! Mon petit Mattieu, _you are all bruised up and scraped and—Mona?"

Mona blinked open her eyes, staring at Francis. "_Bonjour_, Papa," she greeted softly, sleepily. Matthew stared at her with wide eyes.

"Papa?" he repeated, and she looked at him in confusion.

"Yes, Papa," Mona answered. "Why? What's going on?"

Francis kneeled in front of them both. "I'm so glad you two found each other! Matthew," he said gently, "this is your sister, Mona! I wanted to introduce you to her, but it seems you've found each other anyway!" He grinned widely.

Matthew stared. And stared.

Mona was his _sister._

He had told his sister he loved her last night. And he certainly hadn't meant it in a _brotherly _way, either!

"O-Oh," he said after a minute. Mona was now wide eyed too, apparently not having been aware.

"Brother," she repeated. Francis nodded, perplexed.

"What's the matter, you two?" he asked, concerned now. "Don't you get along?"

Matthew and Mona exchanged glances—glances that both said, _A little too well._

_-Kai-_

"Alright!" the chief of the Cayuse shouted. "Kill her!"

Mrs. Whitman was a young woman, precise and neat and beautiful, but she was now messy and ruffled as she was held before the Indian men. Kai reined her horse to a stop.

"Wait!" she shouted. "Don't do it! You say you want to be better than the white man—if that is true, then you would not sink to their level!"

The Chief turned to look at her, eyes narrowed. "You have no say in this matter," he growled at her. "The Whitmans must pay for what they have done to us. Their tyranny must end. Kill her!"

Kai couldn't stand to see the poor women be killed and then brutally beaten after she was dead, as was the custom. She dismounted and grabbed the Chief's arm. "Don't do this!" she shouted at him. "Don't be like them!"

But he didn't listen. He only made the signal and stared heartlessly at Narcissa Whitman.

Kai shut her eyes tightly and released his arm to cover her ears against the horrible sounds that filled the night.

For a few moments after the dead had been done, there was silence; she dared to peek her eyes open, and saw not the mutilated body of Mrs. Whitman but instead Alfred, staring at her with such horror that she almost cried.

This was wrong. All wrong. _She _hadn't done this. She had tried to stop them! It wasn't her fault!

Alfred only stared at her.

"Kai?" he asked, but she couldn't hear him over the shouts of men. They were arguing and yelling at each other, but she had only eyes for Alfred, who seemed like it hurt him just to look at her.

She wanted to scream at him, _It's not me. I didn't do this. Don't think that!_

But her mouth did not move. She could only stand there and cry.

* * *

Drama. D8


End file.
